


Moments of Harmony

by StarlingChild4



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Feels, Fluff, Harmony - Freeform, Harmony angst, Harmony fluff, How it could have been, Humor, Innuendo, Some angst, Suggestive Themes, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2018-12-21 18:37:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 15,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11950245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlingChild4/pseuds/StarlingChild4
Summary: Collection of romantic one-shots/drabbles. Rating will vary per chapter, mostly Teen or General. Just little Harmony moments throughout the books (and movies) and how they could have (or should have) gone. Relationship fluff, some angst, etc.Originally posted on FF.net





	1. Thank You Gone Right

**Author's Note:**

> I originally posted this fic on my fanfiction.net account. But I decided to branch out a bit and share my work in various avenues. These are essentially in the same universe of Harmony being "canon," but the chapters are out of order. Harmony is the main ship, but there is no bashing of any Weasleys, because the Golden Trio is still perfect in every way. It's simply a "what could have happened" with the relationships...

Harry didn't intend on dating anyone while he was busy trying to survive the Triwizard Tournament. The thought simply never really crossed his mind. For a short while, he harbored a crush on Cho Chang, but lost interest (or rather, simply forgot) when the first task began looming overhead. It's hard to imagine kissing or holding hands with anyone when all the mind is fixated on is the very high possibility of being burned alive by a terrifying dragon. 

Hermione was his saving grace during those terrifying few days before he faced the dragons. She practiced with him day in and day out on the Summoning Charm, with the crazy hope Harry could save himself by harnessing his greatest strength: flying. After all, the Firebolt was the fastest broom in the world. Once in flight, Harry's confidence always soared as well. 

Perhaps that was why he did it. Perhaps all those hours of practicing till he mastered the spell, perhaps the horrible anticipation of facing the worst of the dragons (and last, because Harry has the worst luck ever), perhaps the rekindling of his friendship with Ron, and even coming tied first with Viktor Krum, all added to his euphoria that lead to a crazy choice. 

He kissed Hermione. 

It was later in the evening, after the wildly loud celebration that the Gryffindors put together in the common room, after everything calmed down and even Ron said goodnight. It was just Harry and Hermione sitting by the fireplace, exhausted, and relieved. They chatted about something superfluous, and Harry was suddenly filled with an unexpected urge to thank Hermione, properly. He had no idea what drove him to it, but he suddenly stood up, walked over to Hermione in her armchair, cupped her face in his hands, and kissed her. 

It was sweet, almost chaste, but strangely heated. He found himself wanting to kiss her more and more, and maybe even do something risky, like add tongue. But something in him made him stop before he could let this wild thought take over. When they parted lips, Harry noticed for the first time how brightly Hermione's brown eyes shone in the firelight. 

"Harry...?" Hermione's voice was soft, nearly a whisper, as she raised trembling fingers to his cheek. Suddenly, Harry blushed bright red, and stumbled away. 

"S-s-sorry, Hermione, I don't... I don't what came over me, I just --- you looked --- I felt ---"

Hermione said nothing, only stood up and threw her arms around him and kissed him fervently back. Time stood still, and Harry wrapped his arms about her waist, losing himself into her kiss.


	2. Something There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron's POV post-chapter 1. How will he react at the idea of his two best friends kissing?

Ron knew something was up at breakfast the next morning. When the boys woke up that morning, Harry hardly said a word, and kept his eyes determinedly fixed on the floor. At first, Ron worried that his stupid behavior for the past month was still stinging his best friend (resulting in his ears turning red as he tried to work up the courage to defend himself), but then they met Hermione downstairs. She gave a muffled squeak, her hand over her mouth, and turned scarlet. Ron turned to exchange bewildered looks with Harry, but was taken aback by his mate's equally red face. He watched, dumbfounded, as his two friends murmured shy greetings and walked ahead to the portrait hole to head downstairs for breakfast. 

Ron kept his distance from the two suspicious figures, watching them, and mulling over in his head what could possibly be going on. Hermione always confused him, so that was no surprise. But Harry? Harry Potter may be world-famous, but as Ron Weasley's best friend, he was as transparent as Nearly-Headless Nick. He normally never acted so.... weird. Hell, in hindsight, the thought of Harry putting his name in the Goblet of Fire was as stupid as.... Ron giving him the cold shoulder for the next several weeks until yesterday. (His ears burned redder at the thought.) 

All day long, Ron watched his friends, growing more suspicious and more bewildered. At breakfast, Harry offered Hermione some scrambled eggs, resulting in her squeaking in alarm and nodding mutely while she burrowed her face in her textbooks. Which were, Ron noted, upside down. When he tried pointing it out, she snapped that she was merely tired and promptly stuffed a piece of toast in her mouth, and flounced away. Ron then tried to ask Harry what was up, but was greeted with him holding a plate of sausage under his nose. Subdued for the moment, Ron made a mental note to himself to watch them more carefully. 

At Potions, Hermione threw herself into the work with a vigor that reminded Ron of how she acts around final exams. Harry played it cool, but that might have been more because he couldn't stand Snape's class. But then later on, in Herbology, Harry brushed off a leaf from Hermione's hair, having them lock eyes for a moment before Professor Sprout's voice jolted them into reality. At lunch, Harry tried to follow Hermione to the library, but she shook him off, practically running down the corridor. 

Though he was not one to be called observant, Ron was certain something was up. 

"Hey, mate, did you have a row with Hermione, or something?" 

Harry spat out his pumpkin juice. It was dinnertime, and Hermione had already escaped back to the common room. Ron wisely waited till she disappeared to corner his best friend while they ate dessert. And, judging by his reaction, it was good thing he had. 

"Wh-what gives you that idea?" Harry gasped, coughing. 

"Well.... you guys hardly looked or talked to each other all day," Ron said slowly. "Every time you try to talk with her, she flees. What did you do to make her mad?"

"She's not mad," Harry said hurriedly. "At least... I-I hope not."

Ron raised his eyebrows. Harry sighed. "Look, last night, I kinda did something I probably shouldn't have..."

~~~

"YOU GUYS KISSED?!"

"Shhhhh!!!" Harry was bright red, but grinning sheepishly. The two friends were back in the dorm, alone, because the other boys were still playing a game of wizard's chess in the common room. Ron gaped at Harry Potter, famous wizard, Triwizard champion, his best friend, and …. 

"Do you honestly mean to tell me," Ron said shakily, his ears turning redder and beginning to spread over his face, "that you got your first kiss, your first snogging, before me?!"

"I.... what?" 

Ron blushed. "Look, I'm not actually mad, I'm just.... I never really kissed anyone, unless you count my mum, and I'm kinda irritated that you got a chance to snog our best friend--"

"Ron--"

"But look, if you guys start going out, you probably should, 'cause Hermione, well, you know Hermione, she's probably freaking out right now..."

"Ron, are you saying you.... you're okay with us?"

"Like I said, I'm just a little annoyed that you got your first kiss over me, ok?!" Ron said, flustered, and grinning a bit sheepishly as well. "I mean... you could have planned it, and told me ahead of time so I would go snog, I dunno, Lavender, or someone--"

Harry just laughed. Ron joined in and they headed downstairs, both feeling rather relieved. 

"I mean, come on, it's not like you're dating my sister!"

~~~

"So, yeah, Ron knows what's going on." 

Hermione nodded curtly, her face still scarlet, even while leaning over her parchment. Once again, they were alone in the common room. Courtesy of Ron, who shooed most the last Gryffindors to their beds, Harry managed to corner Hermione before she could flee again. He casually mentioned that he wanted to work on homework with her, which convinced her to stay. Harry was sure she didn't believe him, but it still was a good enough excuse. It was nearly midnight, and Harry just finished telling her that Ron figured out that something's there between them, and how Harry told him the truth. Hermione made few comments, just the occasional "mmm" or "oh?", while pointedly concentrating on her homework. 

Harry smiled, watching her bury herself into work. Last night, after her enthusiastic response to his sudden kiss, she had just as quickly pulled away, lingered a moment with her hands covering her mouth, and then fled upstairs. Though Harry spent much of the night, musing whether or not she was upset with him, he didn't forget the brilliance of her eyes nor the passion of her second kiss. Knowing Hermione, she was merely flustered. Harry himself felt a bit awkward, until his conversation with Ron. After all, his friend was right: they had to figure out their relationship, or Hermione will worry herself to death. No matter how shy or whatever they felt, they needed to take a step forward. Or end it now. Harry's heart clenched at the thought, and he inhaled deeply and boldly took hold of her hand. She gasped and dropped her quill. She finally raised her face and made eye contact with the boy she kissed last night. 

"Hermione.... you're my best friend. But after last night.... Don't you think there's something more?" 

"I...."

"I understand if you're embarrassed, but--"

"I'm not!" Harry raised his eyebrows. "Okay, maybe a little, but it's nothing against you! I just...." Hermione fidgeted in her seat. "I dunno, Harry, shouldn't you be concentrating on your second task, you really need to work out that egg--" 

Harry pulled on her hand, and pulled her into another kiss. Hermione's eyes remained wide open, before fluttering closed, and leaned into him. 

~~~

Ron was pretending to read a book when Harry came to bed. He tossed it aside, grinning. 

"So.... how did it go?"

Harry just grinned. His hair was mussed up, more than usual, and his glasses slightly askew. He gave a thumb's up. Ron laughed. 

"Good. Maybe someday I'll know what that feels like."

"I hope so, too, mate." 


	3. A Kiss for Good Luck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breaking away from my main-verse, here's a little oneshot of Harmony romance during their third year...

"One more kiss."

"Harry, for goodness' sake--"

"Come on, 'Mione, a kiss for good luck?"

"Oh, for the love of--"

Harry silenced her by tugging on her waist into a tight embrace, and kissed her fiercely on the mouth. Hermione squirmed playfully for a moment, then eventually caved in. He grinned mischievously at her when they parted lips. 

"Now, how about a real kiss--"

"HARRY, WILL YOU QUIT SNOGGING YOUR GIRLFRIEND, AND GET YOUR RED AND GOLD BUTT OVER HERE?!"

The couple winced at Fred's (or was it George's?) voice, and instantly jumped apart. Hermione pretended to dust off and straighten Harry's Quidditch uniform, to hide her flustered state. 

"Well, g-good lucky, Harry. Ron has been saving me a seat, so I better run..."

"Er, right, sure," Harry said, blushing as well. But then he was caught off guard when Hermione seized hold of his robes, and kissed him, passionately and quickly. 

"Good luck, Harry!", she squeaked, and dashed off. Grinning, Harry headed toward the end of the tent where his annoyed (but also grinning) teammates awaited. 

"Had your fill, Harry?" George asked, winking. 

"Or rather, did Hermione have  _her_  fill?" Fred chortled. 

"ENOUGH," Oliver Wood snapped. "And Harry, try, for the love of Merlin, TRY to be on time next match." 

"Yes, Captain," Harry said, trying to adopt a serious expression. But as he mounted his broom, his mind was replaying the look on Hermione's shocked yet pleased face when he pulled her in for another kiss.... 


	4. Playground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback! To a possible, forgotten first meeting...

It was a pleasantly warm summer day at the neighborhood playground. A handful of parents sat on benches, reading a book or gossiping with their neighbor, while their children ran amuck on the jungle gym. Petunia Dursley was chitchatting happily away, oblivious to the fact that her four-year-old son was stomping over several children's sandcastles and shouting loudly at anyone who dared to go on the slide before he went. Her four-year-old nephew sat quietly at a corner of the sandbox, running little mindless circles with his finger, taking great care not to be noticeable so his cousin may leave him in peace. 

"Do you wanna play?"

Young Harry looked up, to see a rather bushy-haired girl about his age. She smiled down at him and plopped down next to him on the edge of the sandbox. Harry said nothing, bewildered, as this strange girl kicked her feet back and forth, obviously waiting for a response. Before he could think of anything to say, she huffed and said promptly, "My name is Hermione Granger." She pronounced her name with a smug look, quite pleased with herself for enunciating with ease. "What's yours?"

"H-Harry Potter," the boy stammered. 

The girl named Hermione smiled more widely and said, "I can make things fly into my hand."

"Er..."

"Watch!" Hermione pointed at a rock at her feet. After a brief moment, it budged then flew into her hand. Harry stared, shocked. He grinned at the girl in delight.

"Amazing!", he said excitedly. "Are you a witch?"

"Maybe," Hermione shrugged. "I don't know any spells yet, so I guess I'm not a proper witch. Can you do magic?"

The boy shifted uncomfortably. He glanced back at the adults (who, of course, noticed nothing), and murmured, "I--- I can try."

"Go on, then, let's see!" Hermione said bossily, poking Harry's arm. 

Harry frantically looked around, then picked up a flower, growing just outside the sandbox. He held it out to Hermione, and said, "Watch." He wasn't sure what made him know it would happen, he could just feel it. Soon, the flower was floating just above his hand, causing Hermione to shriek with absolute delight.

"You're a wizard!" 

"Why aren't I a witch?"

"Because wizards are boys, silly," Hermione said in exasperation. 

"Oh."

"Do it again!"

~~~

Petunia Dursley deliberately chose to ignore Harry on this day, but also made sure he was in her peripheral vision. She didn't trust that boy alone at home, although being out in public with him made her wary as well. When she noted a small girl approaching her nephew, she thought nothing of it. When they were sitting and apparently talking together, she ignored it. But then.... 

The little girl next to Harry shrieked! Instantly, without a second thought, Petunia was on her feet, marching toward the two children, praying that the worst didn't happen. When she arrived on the scene, her heart stopped. 

Lily's son was making  _a flower float in midair_. Lily's son was showing off this _abnormality_  to this defenseless girl. Lily's son .... _was behaving exactly as Lily did when we were young...._

Petunia swooped in and knocked the flower out of her nephew's hands, grinding it under her heel for good measure. Before he could react, she grabbed hold of his hand and dragged him away. After planting him exactly where she could see him (and making it perfectly clear that if he moved an inch or said anything to anyone, he would remain locked up in the cupboard for the rest of the day), she wrestled Dudley down from the slide. While this scuffle went on, Harry dared to sneak a peek to his side. Hermione Granger was watching him, shell-shocked, and teary-eyed. He wanted to apologize to her, he wanted to make her smile again, but his aunt was keeping a beady eye on him while handling Dudley. Instead, he closed his eyes, and concentrated. 

Next to Hermione's feet, the crushed flower attempted to rise again. Hermione wiped away her tears, and gasped, staring down. She looked over at Harry Potter, with his eyes closed and fists clenched, and smiled happily. 

Petunia finally managed to drag her screaming, unwilling son and grudgingly willing nephew to the car and rushed home. She then proceeded to telephone everyone in the neighborhood, to see who was willing to babysit her nephew next weekend. A strange, but respectable woman known as Mrs. Figg finally gave her consent, and Petunia only had to make three calls in all. Then, she snapped at Harry and locked him in the closet, saying he must stay there until supper. 

Alone in his "room," Harry fumbled with his grungy blanket, remembering the girl named Hermione Granger and wondering if she got in trouble, too... 

 

* * *

 

_-_ _Seven Years Later_ _-_  

"I'm Hermione Granger, by the way." 

Harry blinked, wondering why he felt taken aback. But something about this bushy-haired, rapid-fire speaking girl was nudging at the deep crevices of his memory.... 

He shook it off. No way. He just met this girl on the Hogwarts Express. It was just a coincidence.


	5. Sweet Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sixth year. Harry has fun teasing his girlfriend, Hermione...

"Do you know why I love butterbeer, 'Mione?"

Hermione looked up from her drink. Her boyfriend, Harry Potter, was smiling at her from across their table for two at The Three Broomsticks. Something about his gaze made her feel a bit flustered, but she pretended to be nonchalant. "I don't know, why, Harry?" 

"It's sweet, buttery, and delicious..." Harry leaned forward and brushed his lips on hers. "Just like you."

For a heartbeat, they stared at each other. Then, Hermione's face turned scarlet. Harry grinned, took a long sip of his butterbeer, and winked at her. 

~~~

Hours later, back in the common room, Ron and Harry were splitting sweets with each other, playfully bartering over who gets what. Hermione was curled up on her armchair, her nose buried in a book. 

"Hey, Harry, can I have that chocolate frog? I want to see if it adds to my collection."

"Go ahead. Chocolate frogs aren't  _sweet_  enough for me."

(Hermione made a sudden movement, but when Harry and Ron glanced at her, her face was obscured behind the heavy book.)

"Er, how about some of that licorice?"

"Yeah, sure. Hey, Ron, do you have any of those really  _sweet_  sugar mice?"

(Hermione squeaked.)

"I thought you liked Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Jelly Beans more?"

"Yeah, but I've been having a lot of  _sweet_  cravings lately."

(Hermione whimpered.)

"Okay, umm... how about some fizzing whizbees?"

"Definitely. I particularly love how they feel in my mouth--"

A sudden crash jolted the two boys. Hermione was on her feet, her book dumped carelessly on the floor. Her face was deeply flushed, and her eyes remained fixated on the floor. Ron cocked an eyebrow at her. 

"Er, Hermione...?"

"Bathroom. Going. NOW." Hermione's voice was sharp, though shook slightly. She subtly glared at Harry as she passed, who merely smiled at her. Ron gaped at her till she was out of the portrait hole, then turned on Harry. 

"What did you DO?!"

"Nothing, just giving her a few hints," Harry said innocently. "And now, it's my cue." He stood up. "Do me a favor and stash my sweets under my bed. I gotta go." 

"Where?"

"To the prefects' bathroom, of course."

Ron's mouth opened and closed like a fish. Then, he grinned wickedly. 

"Harry, you sly mother--" 

But Harry was already out of the portrait hole. 

~~~

"I suppose you're quite proud of yourself, Harry James Potter!" Hermione huffed. 

"A bit, yeah."

"Was all that really necessary?!"

"For your reactions, love. Always."

Hermione rolled her eyes. She clasped her hands about Harry's neck, the billowing piles of soap suds swirling about them. They were alone in the prefect's bathroom, and the tub was full of warm water and bubbles. "What am I going to do with you, Harry?"

"Well, I was thinking a little punishment couldn't hurt." 

"Harry!" 

"Or what? Are you craving some punishment, instead?" Harry asked in a sultry voice, as he tugged tighter about her waist. She squealed as her breasts slammed against his chest. They were now nose-to-nose with one another. Hermione glared at him. 

"Just hurry up, and kiss me, dammit!" 

"Of course, my  _sweet thing_." Harry nibbled on her lower lip. 

"H-HARRY!" But Hermione's half-hearted protest was cut off once Harry kissed her full on the mouth. They simultaneously sank further into the bubbles.


	6. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second year. End of school feast and celebration of the end of the terror of the Chamber of Secrets..

The end of school year feast had a particularly happy buzz of excitement, more than the previous year's. With the monster of Slytherin defeated, and the petrified students (and cat) finally recovered, the Hogwarts staff and student body felt reinvigorated and optimistic again. 

Though Harry was still a bit shaken by the events in the Chamber of Secrets, he couldn't stop smiling himself. But what truly solidified his good mood was when the formerly petrified students came out into the Hall, greeted with enthusiastic applause, and among them was Hermione. Hermione, who indirectly saved the school with her research, Hermione, who held her head high in the face of "mudblood" insults, Hermione, who …. Harry had started to fear would never return to him. 

He smiled widely, locking eyes with her from across the Great Hall. She broke into a run, and he stood to greet her. Suddenly, she was in his arms. Harry was overwhelmed by the thick, bushiness of her hair, how alive and vibrant it seemed, swishing back and forth, after so long having been Petrified. He inhaled deeply, willing himself to drown out all the bustling sounds of the student body around him, closed his eyes, and wrapped his arms around her just a little tighter. 

To remind himself that she was alive and here. Hermione was back! 


	7. Harry's Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Third year. Based on chapter nine, "Grim Defeat."

It was the worst Quidditch game ever. From the very start, it was a nightmare, from the storm clouds and lightning to the blinding rain. Hermione and the rest of the Gryffindors (not to mention, the rest of the school) were soaked to the bone marrow, but by sheer defiance against all rights of comfort, they still cheered on their team. It was Hogwarts tradition, after all. 

Hermione didn't really care for sports, and certainly didn't take it as seriously as most of the school, but even she couldn't deny the sweeping excitement an incredible game could bring. Not to mention, with her best friend on the Gryffindor team, she could hardly complain. 

But this game was different. The heavy rain and thunderclouds obscured the majority of the action, and the frigid cold air didn't offer any solace. Hermione was grateful that Hagrid joined her and Ron in their usual spots, for Hagrid's bulking size blocked the worst of the wind, but that didn't stop her from worrying to death over Harry. She'd already done her fair share, enchanting Harry's glasses to repel water, but that would only do so much! What if he was too cold to move? What if he was struck by lightning? What if---

An icy chill swept over the stadium. Hermione shivered, remembering awful moments in her childhood: children laughing at her bookishness, getting terrible grades in her favorite classes, visiting Harry in the hospital wing first year--- 

Hermione gasped. Harry! He never did well with Dementors around! Because that's what it was: a dozen or so cloaked, frightening Dementors had glided onto the Stadium's grounds. Hermione forgot her own fear and worries, looking up anxiously at the cloudy skies.  _Please, hold on, Harry, you'll be okay, you'll be---_

Hermione screamed. Several other girls screamed on cue too, at the sight of Harry's unconscious body fell, rapidly, like a ragdoll, over fifty feet above ground. Hermione's heart was in her throat, tears streaked down her cheeks, while her brain went into overdrive, going over every spell she knew, every fact she learned about magical healing from falling from terrible heights... 

But then Dumbledore's authoritative voice rang out. The fury and power of his voice seemed to overwhelm the very storm itself, and a hush fell over the hysterical crowd. Harry's fall slowed till he was floating just a few feet from the ground. Dumbledore then appeared, wand raised, and cast an incredibly strong spell at the Dementors, who promptly fled the scene. The headmaster then concocted a stretcher and marched Harry back to the castle. 

Hermione unfroze herself and pushed her way through the bleachers. "Oy, Hermione!" Ron yelled at her, but she paid him no mind. She shoved and forced her way through the students, made her way to the stairs and leaped down them, two at a time, till she reached the ground, and was soon racing toward the castle. The rest of the students weren't far behind, but she put on extra speed, her heart pounding in her throat, her mind swirling into a dark abyss, her heart praying,  _pleading_ , for Harry's safety. 

By the time she reached the castle's doors, she could hear the voice of one of the Weasley twins calling out to her (no doubt the entire Gryffindor team rushed over as soon as Madam Hooch gave the signal, if not before), but again, she paid no mind. She rushed through the stony corridor and burst into the hospital wing. 

Madam Pomphrey had just laid down Harry on a bed, fussing with Dumbledore, who stood gravely nearby. The two adults looked up in surprise. Hermione tried to catch her breath. 

"Is--- Harry--- I need.... to see.... if he's --- okay.... please...."

Dumbledore suddenly smiled. He glanced at the nurse. "Poppy, I know you are very busy, but would you be so kind as to allow Ms. Granger to remain by your patient's side? I'm sure his teammates and other friends will be here soon, anyway."

"O-of course, Albus," Madam Pomphrey said, still rather alarmed by Hermione's dramatic entrance. 

Without further preamble, Hermione rushed to Harry's side, grasped hold of his hand, and scanned him over with her eyes. He didn't seem too badly hurt, but his eyes were shut tight, no doubt due to him reliving his Dementor-induced nightmares. Hermione's heart clenched, and she broke down sobbing. She was still crying when Ron burst in, followed soon after by his brothers, and the rest of the Gryffindor team. Madam Pomphrey allowed them, as well as Ginny Weasley, but put her foot down when Neville Longbottom and Dean Thomas tried. She told them to come back later, and shut the doors, clucking to herself about rules and regulations and her patient's health. 

Hermione said nothing as the team and Ron and Ginny talked over the game's events. She didn't care how or why the Dementors showed up or about the results of the game. She cared only about Harry, and wished desperately for him to wake up... 

Harry groaned. Hermione hiccupped, and looked up from her hands. He was stirring and blinking his eyes open. If it wasn't for how clearly disoriented he looked, she would have flung herself onto him that very instant. Instead, she sobbed quietly, thanking the universe that this boy, her best friend,  _her Har_ _r_ _y_  was all right.  _He's_ _gonna_ _be all right!_

Harry looked at her, after talking with the Weasley's. His eyes softened at the sight of her, looking so bloody pitiful, no doubt, but Hermione was grateful that he understood. As soon as he was back to normal, she promised herself, she would give him the biggest hug ever. 


	8. Prefect and Captain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 5th and 6th year. Slight suggestive themes.

"I'm—I'm  _P_ _refect!_ " 

Ron's astonished voice severely underestimated the sudden wave of jealousy that swept over Harry. He clamped down on it, silenced it, and severely muffled its cry of protests as to how unfair it all was. Hogwarts was a school that worked under the "reward and punishment" system (though, thankfully, not to the extents that Mr. Filch gleefully wished it would), and Harry has provided Gryffindor ample amount of points over his last four years at school. Not to mention, saving the school twice, freeing Sirius (though the school, outside of Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix, didn't need to know that), and of course, surviving both the Triwizard Tournament AND fighting Voldemort! 

Shouldn't Harry deserve something like being Prefect? Sure, he was no Hermione or Percy when it came to rules, but he understood responsibility! He deserved a few privileges-! But then Harry squished down on his irrationally angry thoughts, remaining in the same room as Ron, dumbfounded and smiling weakly at Fred and George's jokes. Ron handed the badge over to him, and Harry grasped it, as if trying to remind himself that this was real, that Ron actually-- 

Suddenly, Hermione burst into the room. She was beaming with pride and sporting a Prefect's badge of her own. One look at Harry holding a badge as well made her positively glow with delight. "I KNEW IT! Harry, I knew you'd be Prefect, too!" She rushed across the room and flung her arms about his neck and attempted to kiss him. But Harry turned his cheek, glancing apologetically at his best friend. 

"Oh, um, no, it's not mine," Harry said, thrusting it back into Ron's hands. "It's Ron's."

For the slightest moment, Hermione's face fell. She slowly released her boyfriend, blushing in embarrassment and confusion, and began questioning the truth. When Ron (burning red with embarrassment and his own sense of pride) called her out on it, she flushed scarlet, stuttering some lame excuse. But Harry noticed that she kept glancing over at Harry with a sad, almost disappointed look in her eyes. He turned away and walked to the other side of the room as Mrs. Weasley came in and began gushing over Ron (to Fred and George's utter disgust). Hermione tentatively walked over to him and touched his shoulder. 

"Harry...?"

"I can see the disappointment in your eyes, you know," Harry said. "Ron could tell, too."

"But, Harry, don't you see--?"

"See, what? That my best mate doesn't deserve this ranking? Is that how you want me to think?"

"No!" Hermione gasped, shocked. "No, Harry, not at all! I meant-" her face flushed again "- I meant that Prefect's get their own bathroom. You know that."

Harry nodded dumbly. Yes, of course he knew that. Thanks to Cedric's vague (but helpful) words of advice, he'd utilized the Prefect's bathroom illegally last year to solve the egg's riddle. But what was Hermione...? 

Suddenly, his eyes widened. Hermione was clutching his sleeve, determinedly keeping her eyes on the floor. 

He grinned and kissed her forehead. "Don't worry, Hermione, I'm sure we'll find a way."

* * *

One year later, Harry stood grinning widely at the piece of paper in his hand, announcing that he was now -- 

"I knew you'd be Quidditch Captain!" Ron roared with delight, slapping Harry on the back. "Have fun with the new try-outs!"

But Harry's eyes were locked on Hermione's, who had looked up at the news. He grinned, and said, half to Ron, but mostly to Hermione, "Quidditch Captains get the same privileges as Prefects, don't they? Same bathroom and all?"

Hermione's face flushed bright red, but she couldn't resist grinning. Ron snorted and proceeded to tease them both. 

Later that night, Harry and Hermione were kissing outside in the garden. Then Hermione turned around, and Harry wrapped his arms about her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder.

"I'm so glad you made Quidditch Captain, Harry," Hermione said. "I'm serious, I truly believe this is Dumbledore's way for apologizing for last year." 

"Not even Dumbledore could have prevented half of the shit that went down last year," Harry murmured, nibbling at her ear. Hermione managed to keep her composure. 

"Yes, but I still think that was rather nice of him."

"Mmmhmm," Harry said, grinning wickedly. "Sounds to me like you're just happy you get to be finally naked --" 

"Harry!"

"-- wet, warm, and covered in suds with your boyfriend. Aren't you?" He whispered huskily into her ear, licking around the edge. Hermione whimpered and her legs went weak, but Harry kept her upright. 

"Oh, Harry, can't you just settle for the Room of Require--"

"No, I can't, because that's not what you want, is it?" Harry asked playfully. Hermione scoffed, but Harry could practically feel the heat rising from her face. He nuzzled her neck with his nose. "Imagine if we were caught: a Prefect and a Quidditch Captain alone in the bathtub?! Oh, the horror!" 

"Ten points from Gryffindor," Hermione scolded, with a bit of playfulness. 

"No, twenty for TWO Gryffindors," Harry corrected. 

"Well, that would be if anyone caught us. Imagine if McGonagall or Snape did." 

"Snape would probably empty the entire Gyffindor point system. McGonagall would take away one for propriety, but then grant two hundred more."

"Why on earth--?"

"Because she's been wanting us to get together for years," Harry said as if it was obvious. Hermione burst out laughing. 

"You're absurd, Harry Potter." 

"And you're beautiful. We're all things." 


	9. Loony Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A RonxLuna chapter. 6th year. Harry and Hermione try to encourage their best friend to confess his feelings to their odd Ravenclaw friend....

By Ron's sixth year, he grew to accept that his best friends were dating and had "beat" him when it came to practically anything remotely romantic or sexual. Hell, he actually was happy for them, even if he did envy them a bit. 

Not that he hadn't tried to date someone. Not long after his friends had started going out in the fourth year, Ron had made it his mission to find a date, especially with the Yule Ball looming overhead. He still had a crush on Fleur Delacour, but she was way out of his league. With Harry's encouragement, he tried asking out Parvati and Padma Patil (both of whom were going with Beauxbaton students), then, to his immense embarrassment, a few of Ginny's friends. In a fit of hysteria, he blurted out his love for Fleur one day, fleeing after she started laughing at him. Harry was not with him at the time, but Ginny wouldn't let him live it down (and she still hasn't). Then, Harry, like a true friend, found him a date! Lavender Brown, all giggles and blushes, accepted Ron's indirect invitation, and even managed to maintain her composure when Ron left his dorm in his humiliating second hand dress robes. 

Yeah, Lavender was all right, both for a first date, and later that night, a first snogging. 

Ron was on cloud-nine for the next few weeks, and couldn't resist bragging to Harry that he even had dared to cup Lavender's breasts and she  _liked_  it! Even Harry admitted that at that point, Hermione was too shy to try anything beyond kissing, so he chortled and congratulated his best mate. 

Ron's ego continued rising, as Lavender proved eager to trying many things, though mostly heavy petting. Her kisses were wildly passionate and practically drowned Ron in ecstasy. But as time went on, and Valentine's Day drew closer, Lavender's enthusiasm slowly became overwhelming, and not in a pleasurable sense. Her demands increased and her inability to untangle herself from Ron grew to a point where he literally had to shake her off more often than not. She'd scream at him in the halls when he chose to hang out with Harry and Hermione instead of her, or burst into tears when he'd break off their snogging for "too long"... it was a mess. When she started hinting (more like, passive-aggressively demand) for an incredible Valentine's Day gift, Ron turned to his friends for help. Harry and Neville ushered Ron to their dorm, while Hermione cheerfully forced Lavender to join her, Parvati, Padma, and other female students in their year to have a "girl talk" on the grounds. 

Eventually, it became clear to everyone (even, grudgingly, Lavender) that it was best to end this deteriorating relationship before something crazy happened. With tears in her eyes, Lavender listened to Ron's clumsily rehearsed break-up speech, kissed him gently on the cheek, and promptly fled the scene. Parvati and Hermione later found her sobbing hysterically in the girl's bathroom, with Moaning Myrtle hovering over her shoulder, saying sympathetically, "Boys are simply _awful_ , aren't they?" 

Time passed. Ron remained single, Harry and Hermione stayed together, and Lavender eventually got over him. She ended up dating Seamus Finnegan by the end of term fourth year, though their relationship became rather strained during fifth year, with Seamus disbelieving in Harry's story of Voldemort's return. Though Dean Thomas claimed that with her coaxing and his talks, Seamus's mindset was loosened up enough till he finally read Harry's interview in the Quibbler. Rumor has it that his relationship with Lavender strengthened afterwards and they were madly in love. 

_Good for Lavender. She just wasn't good for me, or with me. Whatever._ Ron genuinely had no grudges against his ex, but the reality of being single while everyone around him was dating or snogging somebody in their lives, often proved to be too irritating to bear. 

It didn't help that one particular student's name continually popped into his head whenever he mused over who he'd like to try dating...

 

* * *

 

The first time the three of them had met Luna Lovegood, the impression was... awkward, to say the least. They met on the train to school in the fifth year. The platinum-colored hair, dreamy expression, and radish earrings, not to mention the upside-down Quibbler magazine: everything screamed "weird" or "mad as a hatter." Even her infamous nickname, "Loony Lovegood," freakishly fit her description. 

But when Ron cracked a joke about Draco Malfoy, the laughter that burst forth from this oddity was what shook Ron the most. Luna laughed so hard that tears ran down her eyes and she had her eyes glued to him for the rest of the Hogwarts Express trip. He felt uncomfortable, but also, strangely pleased. Ron probably considered the twins the most affable of his brothers, and always hoped he could be even half as witty and funny as them. Though he's certainly made Harry and Hermione laugh on multiple occasions, it wasn't often that he could make either of them cry and clutch their sides hysterically. 

From that moment on, Ron secretly hoped he could get another reaction like that again. Especially from her. 

During all their meetings in the Room of Requirement, he got a grasp of Luna's talent with magic, even if her mind wandered into space most of the time. He still poked fun at her from time to time, mostly when alone with his best friends, but for all her weirdness, she became a strangely integral part of their friend group, as well as Dumbledore's Army. 

That battle in the Department of Mysteries was mostly a blur for Ron, thanks to the Death Eater's weird curse, not to mention those creepy brains, but before he went a bit "loony" himself, he'll never forget how he had dived in front of his sister and Luna, to protect them from the Death Eater's curse. It was instinct, both as an older brother and .... as a man. He knew that mentality would result in a punch to the face from Ginny, so Ron wisely kept it to himself. But he knew, in the months that followed, that he was protecting both his sister and a dear girl... 

 

* * *

 

"Ron likes Luna?!" Harry gaped at his girlfriend, who had just casually dropped this bomb on his head. 

"Oh, Harry, don't act so surprised. It's obvious if you pay attention," Hermione said calmly, flipping another page in her book. They were taking up the large sofa facing the Gryffindor common room's fireplace, Harry sitting on one side, Hermione's head on his lap, and her feet propped up on the other edge of the sofa. 

"B-but..."

Hermione sighed and shut her book so her eyes properly met Harry's. "Look, every time she came to our Dumbledore's Army meetings, Ron's eyes always wandered to her. When she wore that ridiculous lion hat to the first Quidditch match of this term, Ron couldn't stop grinning for hours and he snapped at anyone who made fun of her for it. And have you not noticed that he is the only one who can make her laugh?"

"I--"

"Ron's just in denial," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "Even though Luna is as blunt as a slap to the face when it comes to expressing herself and her, albeit, mad ideas."

"Okay.... well, what do you want me to do about it?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Oh, come on, Hermione, you wouldn't have brought it up unless you wanted me to slap Ron upside the head or something."

Hermione smiled wryly. "Well, the thought is tempting, but I would recommend a less violent approach. Talk to him. Convince him to ask her out." 

"Ron's not exactly the talking type..."

"Well, work it out however you boys do these things!" Hermione snapped. She glared at her boyfriend. They held eye contact for a while, until she sighed and shook her head. "Honestly, I don't understand how you  _boys_  can handle not talking about their emotions!"

"And we can't understand how you _girls_  always talk about your emotions," Harry teased. He kissed Hermione's nose. "Fine. I'll talk to him, boy fashion or not." 

 

* * *

 

"I don't  _like_  Luna!" Ron said loudly, his treacherous red ears giving him away. "I mean, I-I like her as a friend, of course. But she's mad as a hatter, Harry, and you know my history of dating mad girls..."

"Lavender wasn't mad, Ron."

"Maybe not, but close enough! Imagine actually going out with a real nutter!" Ron tossed a stone into the lake. It skipped twice before sinking. He and Harry were hanging out by the edge of the lake, Harry sitting with his back against a nearby tree, while Ron skipped stones. "I mean, she's brilliant and funny, and have you noticed how her hair glows in the sun..." That last part was so quietly muttered, that Harry only barely managed to catch it. He grinned. 

"Look, mate, there's nothing wrong with liking someone like Luna Lovegood. Besides, it's obvious she's got a thing for you, too." 

_Plop!_ The stone Ron was preparing to skip dropped with a loud splash. He spun around; Harry focused on making his face as impassive as possible. 

"Did she – how do you – what do ---?"

"Hermione told me," Harry said, deciding the truth was best here. "She asked Luna the other day, and Luna said 'Well, of course, I like Ron. How can anyone not?'"

Ron turned as red as his hair. He glanced down at his feet. "Sh-she probably meant just as a friend, like I do..."

"Noooo, I wouldn't say that," Harry said, unable to resist a teasing tone to slip in. "She also said..." 

 

* * *

 

"Ron really is sexy, isn't he?" Luna said bluntly. 

Hermione spat out her pumpkin juice. They were sitting together, at The Three Broomsticks, with Ginny and a few other girls. Thankfully, Ron's sister wasn't paying attention, despite Luna's not being remotely quiet. Hermione coughed and wiped her mouth. She'd been suspecting the girl's feelings for her best friend for some time, but even so! Luna Lovegood's bluntness was not to be underestimated! 

"I suppose he is attractive, yes," Hermione said slowly, watching the other girl's face closely. 

"I just really think red hair and freckles go beautifully together," Luna said dreamily, running a finger along the rim of her butterbeer mug. "I even had a crush on Ginny during our first and second years, but I eventually got over her, naturally."

Hermione simply nodded. It was no secret that Luna was bisexual, for the girl did not know how to be discreet to save her life. It was one of the biggest scandals that surrounded her already shaky reputation when she had proclaimed her crush on Ginny Weasley in front of her entire Transfiguration class, during the end of their second year (and Hermione's third year). While at the time, Hermione was unaware of this story (she and Harry and Ron were too busy with the groundbreaking news of Sirius Black's innocence), she found out early fourth year, from giggling gossips in the bathroom. Most rumors labeled her a lesbian, even to this day, but if anyone confronted Luna herself, she always simply corrected them, calmly saying something like, "Actually, I'm what you'd call a bisexual. It means I'm attracted to boys and girls. Sure, I liked Ginny Weasley, but now I'm checking out Neville Longbottom. He's kinda cute, isn't he?" 

Needless to say, her completely relaxed attitude about her sexuality, especially at such a young age, turned off a lot of people, even without the help of her eccentric personality. By her mid-third year, however, Ginny Weasley grew so fond of the refreshingly blunt Ravenclaw, that she befriended her without any qualms. When asked by her other friends, Ginny shrugged, and said that it was like being around her twin brothers, only a bit less chaotic. But Ginny and Luna became the best of friends over time, and it was because of their bond that even Harry, Ron, and Hermione grew to love her as well. 

"Not to mention, Ron is really smart, you know," Luna went on, interrupting Hermione's train of thought. "He plays a mean game of wizard's chess, and is always helpful in a pickle--" 

"Luna," Hermione suddenly interrupted, "it's obvious Ron likes you too, though he won't admit it. Don't you ever wish he'd make a move?"

"Not really," Luna said simply. "He'll do so when he wants to. Ron is a bit slow when it comes to these things. I'm in no rush. Though I cannot deny that a kiss would be nice..."

 

* * *

 

Ron's face was bright red when Harry finished retelling the story Hermione told him. 

"You... you're serious?"

"Absolutely."

".... She really thinks I'm sexy?"

"Look, mate, let's just go ask Hermione, and you can find out for yourself."

 

* * *

 

 

"I don't know about this, guys..."

"Oh, come on, Ron, she'll love it!"

"She  _does_ love the color yellow..." 

"Oh, Ronald, it has nothing to do with the color! It's  _you!_ "

"Mate, you got this. Just go over there and do it!"

Ron shuffled his feet in embarrassment as Hermione fussed over his tie and straightened his shirt. He was clutching a bouquet of yellow flowers, and feeling like his heart was ready to burst out of his ribcage. Courtesy of Ginny's inside info, Luna often came around this side of the castle during break to "watch out for Nargles" that apparently love to hang around the edge of the lake. Harry and Hermione have been encouraging and preparing Ron's speech for hours, it seemed, till the fifth years took their break and began wandering the grounds. Ron was both grateful for their help and a bit put off, for his pride wouldn't admit that without them, he'd probably wait years to make a move. 

"Here she comes!" Hermione said suddenly. She gave Ron one last critical look, then smiled and pushed him from their hiding place. "Go to it!" 

Ron stumbled (of course he did), and found himself face-to-face with Luna Lovegood. His stomach flipped over. 

"Hello, Ron," Luna said cheerfully. "Lovely day, isn't it?" 

"Y-yeah, lovely, quite," Ron stuttered. She was staring intensely into his eyes, making him both want to look away or continue drowning himself in them. "I, er, brought you something--"

"Chrysanthemum."

"I- what?"

"The flowers you're holding are called chrysanthemum," Luna said calmly. "They symbolize secret admirer love." 

"They... do they?"

"Oh, yes." Luna smiled expectantly up at him. Ron swallowed hard. 

(Behind them, Hermione giggled quietly. Harry hushed her. They continued watching.) 

"W-well, umm, Luna Lovegood," Ron said, desperately trying to recall the speech Hermione prepped for him. "W-would you do me the honor of being m-my girl—girlfriend?"

"Aren't I already?"

"I—what?" 

"Well, we hang out a lot, we wrote each other all summer, and we like each other, so I thought that was obvious." 

(Harry slapped a hand to his forehead. Hermione dissolved into giggles again.)

"Er---"

"Well, I suppose it's fair to make it official," Luna said matter-of-factly. She stood on her tip-toes and planted a chaste kiss on Ron's lips, then took the flowers from his now limp hands. "Very well, I should really go and tell your sister. See you later!" And with that she skipped away. 

Ron remained motionless till his friends came out and joined him in the open. Ron asked, in a monotone voice, "Guys, did I just land a girlfriend?"

"It would seem so," Harry said. 

"So why do I feel like she landed  _me_  instead?"

Hermione burst out laughing. Harry joined in. Even Ron couldn't resist grinning. 


	10. Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deathly Hallows, Malfoy Manor scene, if Harmony was canon...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This depicts Hermione's torture scene, which I'm keeping in spirit with the book, so there is a lot screaming and terror in this chapter.

Harry and Ron struggled against their bonds. The Snatchers had tied their hands so tightly that the rope was cutting into their skin. But the boys had an even stronger reason to be released. Somewhere, upstairs, Hermione was there. Hermione was going to be --- 

Her piercing scream cut through Harry's heart like a sword. For a moment, both he and Ron froze, looking at each other in horror. The second scream jolted Harry into action. 

"HERMIONE!" He screamed, trying to outmatch her voice, trying vainly to have her hear him. He knew it wouldn't do any good, that she was being tortured, but somehow--- 

"WHERE DID YOU FIND THIS?!" Bellatrix's hysterical, evil voice shrieked. "WHERE AND HOW, YOU FILTHY MUDBLOOD?!"

"WE DON'T KNOW, WE DON'T KNOW ANYTHING, PLEASE--- AHHHHHHH!!!" The intensity of Hermione's crying and screams was too much for Harry. He struggled against his bonds all the more desperately, screaming her name and sobbing hysterically himself...

"Mate, for Merlin's sake, I almost got us loose, but you've got to stay calm!" Ron's voice came crashing into his head. Dumbly, Harry obeyed, and could feel Ron's fingers fumble against the rope. Finally, he was free.... well, as free as one can be in a dungeon. Harry began pacing, staring helplessly at the ceiling, tears streaking down his face, every scream from Hermione a dagger in his heart. Ron looked shaky, staring upward as well, reflecting Harry's own helplessness. One scream in particular lasted so long and rose into the highest reaches of the ceiling, that something in Harry snapped. He fumbled in his pocket and found Hagrid's pouch, where the broken glass from Sirius's mirror was stashed. He grasped the broken piece until that piercing blue eye that so resembled Dumbledore's was seen. 

"HELP US! PLEASE!" Harry didn't care that he sounded and looked mad, he couldn't think of anything else. The eye blinked and vanished, prompting Harry to tuck the glass away, his fingers shaking. 

"Harry?"

"Not now, Ron!"

"No, Harry, Luna's here! And Dean, too!"

Harry spun around. Ron was holding upright a weak but beaming Luna Lovegood. Dean Thomas was sitting on the floor next to a wisp of a man, whom Harry recognized at Ollivander from his dreams and visions. For a moment, he temporarily forgot where they were, too relieved to find familiar faces in an unfamiliar place. Ron was talking quietly with Luna, gently stroking her face, drinking in her features, since the last time he saw his girlfriend was at Bill and Fleur's wedding. Harry felt a strange twinge of envy. He was very glad to see that his good friend Luna was alive and well (or rather, in one piece, anyway), but with the way matters were now.... Ron was reunited with his girlfriend, and was holding her close, and kissing her forehead, but Harry's own girlfriend, and Ron's other best friend, was currently being--- 

"Oh, enough of this! Go get the goblin! He'll sort this out!" 

The sounds of footsteps triggered Harry to action once more. He grabbed hold of Griphook, the goblin who was tossed into the dungeon with Harry and Ron, and pleaded with him to lie, say that the sword was a fake. Pleaded to spare Hermione's life (if she was still...), to not allow Bellatrix the satisfaction of knowing she has the true sword of Gyrffindor in her possession... 

Time seemed a blur after that. Griphook was lead upstairs, and suddenly Dobby, of all creatures appeared out of nowhere! Once he fully remembered the knowledge of elf magic, he asked the elf to send Luna, Dean, and Ollivander to Bill and Fleur's cottage, then to come back to save Harry and his friends. Ron looked like he wanted to protest, but with Luna's coaxing, he agreed to let her go so he could help Harry fight. In front of everyone, Ron kissed Luna full on the mouth, something that he never had done before with such openness. Luna's eyes shone with happiness, but she gently pulled away from his arms when the moment arrived. Dobby gladly obeyed Harry's request and vanished with the three weary prisoners with a loud crack. This resulted in Bellatrix ordering Peter Pettigrew to check it out, Harry and Ron to ambush him, and watch in horror as his own silver hand strangled him to death.... 

But there was no time to comprehend any of that. Hermione was still upstairs. Leaping up the dungeon's steps two at a time, the boys rushed onward till finally they came around the corner.... 

Hermione was lying in a heap on the floor. Harry's heart stopped, certain for a moment that she was dead. But when he looked closely, he could detect the slightest rise and fall of her chest. Before he had time to be relieved, he witnessed Bellatrix's interrogation of Griphook, who coolly lied through his teeth, proclaiming the Sword a fake. 

Satisfied, the cruel woman ordered Greyback to have Hermione---

"LIKE HELL YOU WILL!" Harry roared, as he and Ron stormed in. Taking advantage of the element of surprise, they managed to secure wands from the Malfoy's, and were fighting back against the other Death Eaters, when suddenly--- 

"STOP! OR SHE DIES!" 

Harry froze. Bellatrix was holding her knife to Hermione's neck, holding her upright by the hair. Ron swore. Now that she was standing, they could see the blood trickling down Hermione's arm, blurred red letters that spelled out--

"Lower your wands!" Bellatrix snapped. "Or we'll see how dirty her blood really is!"

Helpless, the boys obeyed. Harry's legs were shaking. This was too much, they were so close, they needed to save Hermione, they needed---

A strange squeaking noise came from above. Everybody looked. Dobby was balancing precariously on the top of the chandelier, loosening it until.... Bellatrix screamed and pushed Hermione into harm's way. Harry took his chance and dove forward, grabbing Hermione and dragging her limp body away from the falling chandelier. In a moment of chaos, he took a moment to examine her face. 

"Hermione, baby, I'm here. You're all right, you're all right," he whispered over and over. Hermione murmured something incoherent, her eyes fluttered open for a moment, but the pain and shock was too much for her to remain fully conscious. Harry handed her to Ron, and dove for Draco, who still clung to Harry and Ron's stolen wands. With hardly a struggle, Harry secured them again and rushed back to his friends, who also grabbed Griphook. Dobby began Disapparating them out of the hellish home... 

 

* * *

 

_-Five Years Later-_

Harry was awakened suddenly by the sound of screaming. He sat up to see his wife screaming and thrashing back and forth in her sleep. His heart clenched tight at the sight, and instantly began waking her. 

"Hermione, Hermione, you're okay, wake up..." 

Her eyes popped open and she looked up at her husband, who stroked her cheek lovingly. 

"Oh, Harry, I'm sorry, I--" She broke down crying. Harry sat up and gently lifted her up till she was properly cocooned in his arms. She sobbed wordlessly against his chest, and he silently stroked her hair and occasionally kissed her forehead. 

It's been five years since their nightmarish experience at the Malfoy Manor. Five years and these cruel scars remain. Harry's other hand gently massaged the fading carved letters on Hermione's forearm, branding her as something sub-human, something to be disgusted at.... 

Harry growled angrily and hugged his wife closer. Scars would always be a part of Harry's life, it seemed, even attached to those he loved. He cried silently, unheard but possibly sensed by Hermione, who stroked his face. They remained like this for a while, haunted by these old scars... 


	11. The Yule Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if Harry asked out Hermione instead? (Slight sequel to chapters 1 & 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, we're back to sweet fluff after angsty Chapter 10! ^^" Enjoy!

"So, um, Hermione, what do you say?"

Hermione Granger blinked. She instinctively clutched her books tighter to her chest, willing her heart to desist from pounding away so loudly. She had just gotten asked out. For the first time in her life, a boy actually willingly and without any hints asked her on a date. And that boy was none other than--- 

"O-of course!" Hermione turned beet red at the squeak in her voice. She promptly cleared her throat and forced herself to look straight into those emerald green eyes. "Of course, Harry. I'd gladly go with you." 

~~~

Harry Potter couldn't stop beaming. He practically floated back to the Gryffindor common room. Though he had already kissed Hermione, somehow making it official, asking her out, and  _her accepting_ , made it all the better. He had just finished helping her pick out new books at the library, when the words just sort of came out. He wasn't sure what caused it. Perhaps it was the shine in her brown eyes as she gazed lovingly at the books, perhaps it was the swish of her bushy hair as she looked back and forth and up and down the aisles, or perhaps because he was remembering their first kisses, alone, in front of the Gryffindor fireplace.... Whatever it was, he asked her. 

Which, Harry realized, as he was humming to himself up in the dorm, brought him to another dilemma. 

He couldn't dance. 

~~~

"Neville, I'm begging you."

"Look, Harry, it's not that I mind--" Neville stammered, blushing bright red and staring at his feet. "B-but shouldn't you ask a girl, like Hermione or--"

"You don't understand. I asked Hermione to go to the ball with me. I need to know how to dance and not humiliate her, or myself, in front of the whole school." 

Neville started. Harry had cornered him when he came upstairs (interrupting his reading of  _Magical_ _Water Plants of the_ _Mediterrane_ _an_ ), and pleaded for a secret consultation. Neville agreed, thinking Harry was finally indulging in his closet love for plants, but then seemed to be backing out. Until Harry dropped the bomb on him. 

"You... Hermione...  _dating?!_ "

"Yes, all right?" Harry said impatiently. "Congratulations, you found out first, unless Hermione told someone else before you. Ron's probably gonna kill me later, but he's been suspecting it lately, and even encouraged me to ask her out... but that’s beside the point! Look, Neville, Triwizard champions open the Yule Ball. McGonagall told me. We're the first to dance. There's a lot of pressure, and I just can't make a fool --"

"I get it, I get it," Neville said hurriedly. He put down his book and sighed. "Okay, I'll be clear with you: in truth, Gran's been teaching me the waltz and other formal dancing since I was nine and finally showed a bit of magic in me. So, I can help you. But in exchange... " Neville fidgeted. "F-fix me a date with Ginny Weasley, please!"

"Why are you asking me?" Harry asked, laughing. 

"Oh, I don't know, you're just so close with the Weasley's, and I know Ron would never let me hear the end of it if I asked him for help, so if Ginny accepts, he can't object. And if she refuses, it's our secret, okay?", he asked suddenly rather fiercely. 

"Okay," Harry said, grinning, extending his hand. "I won't tell anyone about Ginny – and I'll get her to promise too, if she decides not to go – and you'll promise not to reveal our dancing lessons. Deal?"

Neville smiled sheepishly. He clasped hands with Harry. 

"Deal. Let's get started."

~~~

For the first time in two years, Hermione found herself zoning out in her Ancient Runes class. She simply couldn't stop smiling and reliving an hour ago, when Harry actually asked her to go the ball! It was like a fairytale come true! Except unlike all those stories, Harry was no far-off, mysterious prince; he was her best friend and her long-time crush. She knew everything about him, and bonded with him even more during that terrible month when Ron was being silly... Certainly, it may not have been an entirely romantic "proposal," but it was at the library, which, in Hermione's world, was the equivalent of the grandest, most gorgeous of romantic gestures. She couldn't have asked for a better one. 

Then, just as class was dismissed, she was hit by a train. 

She couldn't dance. 

~~~

"Ginny, I'm begging you."

"Hermione, I was raised by six brothers. Why on earth would you think I could dance?"

The two girls were sitting crossed-legged, facing each other on Hermione's bed in the girl's dorm. As soon as her Ancient Runes class was over, Hermione rushed back to the common room, praying she had a book in her dorm somewhere that either had a spell to grant great dancing skills, or even, randomly, a book about dancing at all. While scavenging in her trunk, Ginny walked past the open door, fresh off of her own afternoon classes, and asked Hermione what was up. The other girl promptly grabbed her hand, pulled her inside, and shut the door. Ginny seemed willing to hear her out, though reluctant to act. 

"I know you can dance because of your mother!" Hermione said, a bit too loudly. She flushed, but plunged on. "S-she told me she'd ask you to practice dancing in the kitchen..."

Ginny glowered. "I'm gonna kill Mum..." 

"Look, it doesn't matter if It's embarrassing! This is serious! Harry and the rest of the champions open the Yule Ball and start the first dance! How do you think he'd feel, if his own dance partner kept stepping on his feet?"

"Probably shrug it off and laugh," Ginny said nonchalantly. 

"Well, I won't like it! I can't bear to make Harry look like a fool, and Ginny..." Hermione lowered her voice, and clasped her friend's hands. "This is my first date. I can't royally mess up before even trying."

Ginny stared at her silently for a few moments. Then, she looked away, lost in thought. "I'll help," she said slowly, "if you promise me something." 

"Yes?"

"Can you get Neville to ask me out?" Ginny said so quickly, Hermione almost couldn't catch it. 

"Excuse me?" 

"Look, the idiot can't take the initiative to save his life," Ginny said grumpily. "But he's... he's really sweet and actually quite brave, in his own way..." She took a deep breath. "Besides, there's no other decent Gryffindor to go with, besides Harry and my brothers, and the latter are up for debate."

Hermione laughed, and extended her hand. "I'll talk to Neville. And you'll give me dancing lessons. Deal?"

"Deal. Let's get started."

~~~

The next few weeks were full of secret dancing lessons, and encouraging Neville and Ginny to go out, plus helping Ron land a date as well. The same day Neville finally bucked up the courage to ask out Ginny (who naturally accepted), Ron made a fool of himself in front of Fleur Delacour, and Harry salvaged the mess by approaching Lavender Brown and begging for her to go with his best friend. 

Somehow, despite all the nerves and drama, both Harry and Hermione managed to harness great dancing skills thanks to their teachers. 

The day of the Yule Ball had the entire school (and the two guest schools) practically buzzing with anticipation. A few hours before sundown, Hermione and Ginny hurried back to the castle, leaving Harry, Ron, and the Weasley twins in the middle of a snowball fight. Ron grinned sheepishly as he noticed Lavender Brown joining the girls on the castle steps, and Harry was too busy watching Hermione's distant figure, until Fred's snowball made contact with his face. 

Finally, soaked, cold, but grinning ear to ear, the boys stomped up to Gryffindor Tower to get ready. Ron's good mood was temporarily ruined by him staring glumly into his reflection (his maroon, lacy dress robes looking more dated and moth-eaten than ever), but after Harry convinced him to leave and head to the Great Hall, he instantly lit up when Lavender Brown latched onto his arm with absolutely no comment or disdainful look towards his attire. Harry remained standing at the foot of the stairs, antsy for Hermione's appearance, remembering her begging him to wait at this spot... 

Gasps from his peers prompted him to turn around. Harry's jaw dropped. At the top of the stairs, a vision of stunning beauty, in a shimmering blue dress... It was Hermione! Her hair was sleek and spun up in an elegant bun, decorated with pearls, and she had the slightest touch of make-up around her eyes to enhance their shine. But what caught Harry's attention the most was the aura of sheer confidence radiating from her. One step at a time, she carefully descended the last flight of stairs, shoulders back and head held high, the slightest self-satisfied smirk on her beautiful face. She deserved that smile; she deserved to show off tonight. 

~~~

Hermione's heart didn't stop pounding as she carefully walked down those last stairs. She was so nervous to reveal herself from behind the wall, but the moment she stepped out and heard all the gasps and saw all eyes turn on her.... somehow that boosted her confidence. As she descended the stairs, she caught sight of Darco Malfoy with Pansy Parkinson, gaping unashamedly at her. She smirked.  _That's right, bitches. Drink it in._ _Hermione_ _Granger, the bookworm, Hermione_ _Granger, the_ _"_ _mudblood_ _," Hermione Granger, the prude. She's the prettiest girl at the ball!_  But then, she reached the end of the stairs, and came face-to-face with Harry. 

Acutely aware of all the eyes on them, her breath caught when Harry took hold of her hand, and formally kissed it, and then offered his arm to her. She chanced a glance at his face. His cheeks were burning red, but he also had a look of utter pride in his eyes. Suppressing a giggle, she linked arms with him and they walked to the doors leading to the Great Hall, where the other champions awaited. 

~~~

_I'm walking with the hottest girl in the entire school. She's my date. She's MY date!_  Harry almost felt like skipping. He'd always thought Hermione was pretty, especially when she was poring over books or talking excitedly about something, but seeing her put such effort into her appearance and having it pay off gloriously was the best middle finger she could have given her haters. Harry couldn't have felt more proud of her than in that moment. 

_God, I love her! Wait... what?_

The trumpets sounded, and Harry, Hermione, and the other Triwizard champions with their dates, walked inside the Great Hall, greeted by applause from the three schools' student bodies. Harry walked a tad nervously now, but something about Hermione's confident gait convinced him to swallow any last-minute nerves. The dance was coming up now. All those weeks training with Neville would pay off or not.... 

The champions and their partners took position in the middle of the dance floor. Harry took hold of Hermione's waist, his heart thumping a little too loudly to be healthy. She was blushing but smiled at him encouragingly. He took a deep breath. The music started. 

~~~

Hermione was flying. Because Ginny always played the "boy's part" of dancing, she was able to lead Hermione and instruct her on how to trust her partner's movements. She expected some resistance from Harry, knowing his true grace emerged through flight, but he was proving to be remarkable! He literally swept her off her feet at the right moments, had confident steps, and never once caused her to stumble or step on his feet! During one lift, she dared to kiss his forehead coming back down, and he promptly spun her around, making her laugh in delight. 

She was in a fairytale that was wonderfully, beautifully actually a reality. 

~~~

"Well done training Harry," Ginny said some time later. Neville started, almost stopping their own slow dance. It was close to midnight, and most of the members of the ball had either gone off to bed or found some privacy with their dates. He almost stammered a denial, but she scoffed. "Please, of course I figured it out. I asked Hermione to convince you to ask me out, and Harry coincidentally asked me if I'd be willing to go with you. I put two and two together. You guys made a similar pact, didn't you?" 

"W-well, sort of," Neville said, blushing. "Harry kinda cornered me.."

"Hermione did the same for me." 

"And he didn't know how to dance..."

"Hermione had two left feet until this night." 

"So... yeah. I guess we helped them out."

"And in exchange," Ginny said quietly. "They helped us out." 

Neville cleared his throat and looked away. Ginny smiled and kissed his cheek and snuggled against his chest and they continued swaying. 

~~~

Harry gasped for breath. He and Hermione had spent the last half hour (or was it an eternity?) making out in a quiet little corner, outside the Hall, where snowflakes were beginning to decorate their hair and dress robes. Her hair was all mussed up and he was quite sure his tie was no longer straight, but neither of them cared. He gently stroked Hermione's cheek, who kissed his palm. 

"Hermione, I know this is a date, and it's been a great date, but don't you wish it would end?"

"Of course, Harry," Hermione said, her voice soft, her eyes reflecting the stars above. "I hope this night never ends." 

"It may not be the same, but, er," Harry said, sudden rather hesitant, "I could a-arrange something similar." 

"Hmmm?"

"Maybe this night will end, but this dating thing doesn't have to."

"Harry, are you--"

Harry took a step back and clasped Hermione's hands to his heart. She gasped, but he continued on, not daring to pause for fear that his nerves would get to him. "Hermione, will you be my girlfriend? Will you make this official--?"

Hermione answered by crushing her lips onto his. He grabbed hold of her and lifted her up and spun her around. In the clumsy rush of movements, their lips parted, but both didn't care, laughing and laughing, feeling all the world's happiness in one beautiful moment. 


	12. You're a Great Wizard, Harry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Book 1. Hermione's POV with Harry's decision in the Potion room....

Hermione stared at her friend. She suddenly gasped, and involuntarily clapped her hands to her mouth. 

"Harry, no! You can't go alone!"

"Yes, I must. You go and get Ron. Go back and tell McGonagall. If I don't make it.... you'll have to spread the word before Snape gets away with this."

Hermione's throat tightened. Her eyes misted over. Harry was her best friend, next to Ron. The thought of losing him, against Snape, against  _him_ , was too much to bear. 

"Harry, h-he'll kill you!"

"I survived once, didn't I?" Harry said casually. "Maybe I'll get lucky again."

That did it. Tears welled in her eyes and Hermione threw herself in Harry's arms. He staggered back and stammered her name in surprise. 

"Y-you're a great wizard, Harry. You really are."

"Not as good as you," he said, his face burning red. 

Hermione hiccupped and laughed nervously, untangling herself from him. She thought of the boy who was crazy enough to jump up and lock him arms around a mountain troll's neck. She thought of the boy who had wicked flying skills, and managed to remain afloat even as his broom was being cursed. She thought of the fire in his eyes when he spoke about stopping Snape. She thought of him alone in the Forbidden Forest, face to face with You-Know-Who.... 

And then she thought of herself. Perfect grades. Memorizing all her textbooks. Turning up her nose at her peers for not following the rules to a T. Only truly turning a new leaf after she was saved by a troll... 

"Me?" Hermione scoffed. "Books and cleverness."  _That's all that_ _mattered_ _to me. Until..._  "There are more important things: friendship and bravery. And – oh, Harry, please be careful!"  

Harry nodded and smiled reassuringly. He handed Hermione the right potion, and he held onto to his own. On the count of three, they both swallowed their respective potions and turned around to face the opposite portals of fire. Harry kept his eyes on Hermione as she began stepping into her fire leading back to Ron, but as soon as he turned his back, Hermione continued staring at his back until he vanished into the fire. 

"Good luck, Harry Potter," she whispered, tears streaming down her face. Then she left as well. 


	13. Warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione has a surprise for Harry. Sweet, romantic fluff ahead.

Harry stamped his feet and blew on his hands, his breath opaque and wispy like a miniature cloud. Clouds covered the midday sky, blocking any chance of heat, and snow was coming down consistently. Harry rubbed his gloved hands on his arms, vainly trying to keep the blood pumping and not turn him into a human icicle. 

"Why did I agree to this again?", he said grumpily to himself. Hermione and he were on their way to Hogsmeade, hand-in-hand, without a care in the world, when suddenly Hermione stopped dead in her tracks, inadvertently jolting Harry to a winding halt, and pulled him off the path. After brushing past pine needles and lower tree branches, they discovered a small, sheltered clearing, closely surrounded by trees and large boulders. Due to its design, the buzzing sound of students' conversations passing by on the path could still be heard, albeit slightly muffled. Before Harry had time to ask Hermione what on Earth had gotten into her head, she demanded him to stay put, because she'll be right back. And just like that, she ducked out under the trees' branches and vanished. Bewildered, cold, and more than slightly annoyed, Harry obeyed the will of his girlfriend, though he was beginning to question her sanity. 

"H-Harry!" 

He turned quickly to see his girlfriend, her face flushed red and her quickened breath fogging up the air, in a slight predicament: her hair was caught in one of the branches. Harry sighed and went over to her side to untangle her, unable to hide his grin. 

"Honestly, 'Mione, what brought all this on? First, you rush off like a maniac--" he stopped short at the clumsily wrapped package she clutched in her arms. "Did you go back for that?"

Hermione nodded, still mostly speechless from catching her breath. She hugged it closer to her chest, suddenly blushing a deeper red and averting eye contact. Harry raised an eyebrow. She caught that and cleared her throat in embarrassment. 

"W-well, I-I noticed you kept shivering and--"

"Huh? I was?"

"Yes! You were practically shaking my hand as well! So, anyway, I decided on the spur of the moment to go get it, so, I ran all the way back to the castle and to Gryffindor Tower to fetch it, and ran as fast as I could back here, because I suddenly realized how cold you must be without me there to hold your hand, and I felt so stupid and impulsive, because I normally think these things out, you know, and yes, I know Valentine's Day not till next week, but I--"

"Whoa, whoa, slow down," Harry interrupted, grabbing hold of Hermione's shoulders. "You're talking way too fast for someone who just ran all this distance! Come here, lean against the rock, and take a few deep breaths, and then you can finish talking." 

Hermione obeyed, looking both annoyed at being interrupted and relieved to take a break. She pressed her back against the boulder, leaned her head back, closed her eyes and took several, deep breaths. Harry watched her carefully, keeping his hands secured at her elbows in case she felt faint. He couldn't help but eye the package in her arms. It looked rather crumpled and soft; he sincerely hoped it wasn't fragile. Finally, Hermione took one last breath, faced forward, and opened her eyes, finally properly making eye contact with her confused boyfriend. 

"I made you something," she said calmly, though her pink cheeks revealed her nervousness. "I meant to wait till next week, for Valentine's Day, but since we were going to Hogsmeade today, and how cold the day is, I just...." She thrust the package against Harry's chest, making him scramble to grab it before it fell to the ground. "Here you go! Happy, er, early Valentine's Day!"

Grinning, Harry opened the package (if you could call it that; the newspaper wrapping fell off the moment he brushed it aside), and found... a red and gold handmade scarf. Near the tassels on both ends, were embroidered Golden Snitches on a red square, while the rest of the scarf was a zigzag, triangular formation of interchanging red-and-gold coloring. Compared to Hermione's clumsy attempts to free Hogwarts' house elves, this was a remarkable work of art. Harry ran his fingers along the soft yarn, too stunned to say anything for a moment. Hermione watched him anxiously, biting her knuckle and shifting her feet constantly. 

"It's not very good, I know," she blurted out, playing with her hair strands nervously. "Mrs. Weasley gave me some tips over the holiday, and I may or may not have fixed some mistakes with magic, but some of them just looked worse afterward, and it may not be warm enough or anything, and, and, oh dear, what am I--" 

Harry swept his flustered girlfriend into his arms and kissed her passionately on the mouth. She squirmed in surprise, then kissed him back, his new scarf squished between them. When their lips parted, Harry kept his eyes locked on hers as he unwound the scarf and wrapped it around his neck, then playfully wrapped a loop around her as well, drawing her closer. She squeaked; he laughed. 

"Well, Hermione, since you insist on keeping me warm, why don't you join me?" he said, teasingly. 

"I don't--"

"I didn't even notice I was cold earlier when we were walking. You being there, holding my hand, was enough warmth for me. It wasn't until you shoved me in here and ran off when I began to notice just how bloody cold it actually was." He tugged gently on the scarf end that enveloped Hermione, till their lips were a breadth apart. "Not that I'm complaining about the additional amount of warmth. Thanks, babe," he whispered, brushing his lips on hers. Her body shivers encouraged him and he sank down into her sweet mouth.  

They kissed again and again, more deeply, tongues dancing and lips biting, for several long, blissful minutes. By the time they finally decided to continue heading towards Hogsmeade, holding hands, blushing, and partially sharing Hermione's handmade scarf, Harry had completely forgotten the cold.


	14. Veela

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione's thoughts and feelings on Veela and how they affect (or don't affect) Harry.

The World Cup 

"Aaah! Veela!"  

Mr. Weasley looked strangely flustered as he wiped his glasses on his robes. Well, perhaps not so strange, Hermione mused, vaguely recalling a chapter on Veela in  _Non-Human Magical Beings_ _: A Guide to a Better_ _Understanding our Brothers and Sisters_ , and their seeming powers on men through pheromones. Intrigued, though also slightly wary, Hermione watched through her Omnioculars as the beautiful female beings glided across the field and began to dance. Though their movements did nothing except merely impress her with the choreography, Hermione couldn't deny the energy that infused the audience....  

A sudden movement next to her startled her out of her thoughts. Hermione looked away from the field and felt her jaw drop. Harry was standing on his seat, leaning forward, as if to leap out of their box! As if in a daze, his glazed-over eyes were glued on the Veela, his face flushed, and was that  _drool?!_  For a wild moment, Hermione felt irrationally jealous. Why couldn't Harry ever stare at her that way? Didn't he find her attractive? Just as suddenly, she shook her head sharply. They weren't dating, they were only friends. Why on earth would Harry ever think of her that way? Not to mention, it wasn't his fault, he was being enchanted...  

"Harry, what are you doing?" she said sharply, unintentionally slipping a few of her temporary emotions into her voice. Harry blinked and looked around. His green eyes were clearer and he wiped his mouth unconsciously. When he locked eye contact with Hermione, he blushed slightly, and grinned lopsidedly, looking about as sheepish as if he were caught doing something unsavory.  

Hermione scoffed, tugged on Harry's hand till he was set properly back in his seat. "Honestly!" 

She exchanged looks with Ginny, who was currently pushing her brother Ron into his seat, and they both had the same expression on their faces:  _Boys!_  

 

* * *

 

The Welcoming Feast 

When Fleur Delacour showed up at the Gryffindor table a few months later, asking for a French dish, Hermione couldn't help but feel a twinge of triumph that Harry was not nearly as affected as he was at the World Cup. He was blushing certainly, but not gaping like Ron, Seamus, and half of the other boys in the school body were.  

After Fleur left, Ron's eyes following her every move, Hermione nudged Harry. He blinked and looked at her.  

"Being a boy must be  _so hard_ ," she teased, helping herself to some pudding, "to be so easily enchanted by pretty girls."  

"To be fair, if there was a group of pretty boys like Veela, you'd be equally all over them, too," Harry shot back, but his eyes were twinkling.  

"Don't be silly, Harry. I'm not so shallow as that!" 

"I seem to recall a certain Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who was nothing but good looks and charm who won you over--" 

"Ginny, you really ought to try this pudding, it's simply marvelous!" Hermione said suddenly, grabbing the Weasley girl's attention, but she couldn't hide her flushed face in time. She could practically sense the huge grin on Harry's face, and so busied herself with a mindless conversation with Ginny in order to ignore his triumph.  

 

* * *

 

The Yule Ball  

Going on a date with her best friend, Harry Potter, was a dream that Hermione never dared to fully realize. As they ate dinner together with the other champions and their dates, Hermione felt keenly aware of how attentive Harry was with her, his green eyes only flicking to Fleur once or twice but only after she spoke particularly loudly in her distinct French accent.  

 _He's looking at me... like I'm a_ _Veela_ _! Well, not quite. More human-like, but as close on one could get, really._  As soon as the thought passed, the four pairs stood up to begin the dance. Harry's hands were shaking as he escorted Hermione to the dance floor and they turned around and faced each other. Next to them, Fleur was in Roger Davies' arms, who positively looked about to swoon in front of everyone. Hermione bit her lip, again fighting the irrational envy that swept over her being, feeling so less attractive by comparison, in spite of Harry essentially staring at her all night...  

"Hermione." Harry's voice brought her back into focus. She forced herself to meet his gaze; he smiled softly. "You're the most beautiful person in this room."  

She caught her breath. His hand was on her waist and he began to spin her around, but she was already dizzy with delight.  

 

* * *

 

End of Term 

"Goodbye, 'arry!" Fleur swooped down and kissed Harry's cheek, causing his face to turn scarlet. Hermione, standing next to him and holding his hand, glanced at her boyfriend, and cocked an eyebrow.  

"I can't help it, you know that!" Harry protested half-heartedly. "Besides..." He nodded his head toward Ron, who was leaning his cheek eagerly forward, in the least subtle way possible, toward Fleur, as she chatted away in rapid French with her younger sister.  

Hermione and Harry made eye contact and burst out laughing. She squeezed his hand and kissed his cheek, not unintentionally over the same place where Fleur had moments before.  


	15. Love Potion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if Harry DID take Romilda's potion-spiked chocolates 6th year? Spoilers: no poisoning in this version!

Ron grew up seeing and hearing many strange things, being the youngest son of a wizard family. He helped his brothers de-gnome their garden, yelled at their attic ghoul to can it, and even had to deal with giant spiders second year in order to find out information on the Chamber of Secrets (the last memory still haunted his memories). But he never, in a million years, expected to ever see his best mate, Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, gazing at the moon in a vapid, swooning kind of way. It would have been downright disturbing if it wasn't so hilarious.  

"Erm, Harry?"  

"The moon looks beautiful tonight, doesn't it?" Harry said happily, his voice so  _effemin_ _ate_ that Ron almost cracked a joke, but was too bewildered by his friend's words to do so.  

"Uh, I guess? You feeling all right, mate?"  

"I don't know. I never felt this way before." Harry turned around, his eyes weirdly moist. "I can't stop thinking about her!"  

"Look, if you want to profess your undying love to Hermione, that's all good, mate, but--" 

"Who are you talking about, Ron?"  

"H-Hermione Granger? Your girlfriend of almost two years? Our best friend?" 

Harry looked so disgusted that Ron actually felt quite sorry for Hermione. He wasn't aware they had a row, but there was no need to be so heartless. He frowned. "Harry, seriously, are you feeling okay?" 

"I'm in love with her!"  

"One minute you don't know who I'm talking about, the next you expressing your love again? What the actual--" 

"Ron, Romilda Vane is so beautiful and amazing and I-I can't stand it!" 

Utterly stumped, Ron gaped at his best friend. He wracked his brain for an explanation. On the one hand, Harry certainly had a sense of humor. He's practically one of the Weasleys with his innate enjoyment of jokes, and was always the first to roar with laughter over Fred and George's antics. On the other hand, he loved Hermione! Everyone was expecting them to get married after school was over, and Ron was already secretly planning various ways to have the world's best bachelor party. Who the bloody hell was Romilda Vane, and why was Harry so obsessed with her?! 

This smelled of enchantment. So, Ron made some lame excuse and escaped their dorm to fetch the first person in the world, at the top of his head, who could figure out what was wrong: Hermione Granger.  

 

* * *

 

"You got the wrong person, Ron!" Harry whined, looking anxiously over his friends' shoulders, before plopping down on the floor in a pout. "Where's Romildaaaa?"  

"He's obviously under a spell of some kind," Hermione said, feeling irked at the way her boyfriend kept frowning at her before searching in vain for the object of his desire. "I would guess a love potion. Did he eat or drink anything, Ron, before you found him like this?"  

"I think so," Ron muttered, his lips twitching with amusement over Harry sitting on the floor, hugging a pillow to his chest, humming cheerfully. "After breakfast, we came back up and he was eating something that was left on his bed..."  

At this, Hermione marched to Harry's bed, yanked open the curtains. There, laying in disarray, was a half-empty box of chocolates, one truffle bitten in half and squashed into the sheets. Shaking from head to foot, Hermione searched among the wrappings and found a note that read, "Happy Valentine's Day! Hope you enjoy the sweetness, my love!" No doubt a house-elf, the poor thing, delivered this to Harry's bed while everyone was eating breakfast. Harry must have assumed they were from his girlfriend, not that....  

"That... that bitch!" Hermione hissed. She spun around to find Harry attempting to leave the dorm, but Ron was holding him back. "On Valentine's Day, of all days, she chooses to strike! Well, we'll see about that!"  

She grabbed hold of Harry's hand, forced a smile and said sweetly, "Come on, Harry, I know Romilda very well. I'll introduce you two."  

Harry stopped struggling with Ron, his eyes positively shining like a kid at Christmas. "You will?! Ah, thanks, Hermione! You're the best! If I wasn't so in love with Romilda"---he drawled out the name like Romeo to Juliet; it made Hermione want to vomit---"I would probably consider dating you. But that's impossible of course. True love conquers all!"  

Ron snorted. Hermione shot him a deadly glare, then smiled at her inebriated boyfriend. "Come along, then. We'll settle things with your true love..." 

 

* * *

 

"'Mioneee, this is Slughorn's office! Where is Romilda?" Harry fidgeted in his seat, his legs twitching anxiously, as if in any moment, he would bolt outside and search for the girl himself. Hermione held his hand firmly, sitting on this sofa next to him, glancing over at the professor who was finally done concocting the antidote and was walking back over to the pair.  

"All in good time, dear boy," Slughorn boomed, winking at Hermione. "But first, drink this. It's firewhiskey. It'll help calm your nerves."  

Harry grinned innocently at the Potions professor. "Thanks!" He gulped it down. The beaming expression slid off his face instantly. Pale, shaking, and not a little frightened out of his wits, Harry looked over at Hermione. "'Mione, I--" 

"Say no more," Hermione said, feeling immensely relieved, standing up. "You're not the one I'm mad at." She whipped out her wand. "Professor, if you don't mind--"  

"My girl, as long you don't commit murder or torture, do whatever you like. I won't say a peep." Slughorn had a twinkle in his eye that reminded Hermione strongly of Dumbledore.  

She leaned down and kissed Harry's forehead. "I'll be right back. You stay here and try not to beat yourself up too much." With a wink, she left the office in a rush.  

 

* * *

 

Romilda screamed. Her hair was singed, her face sooty, and her brown eyes wide in terror. She was backed against the wall, her wand lying several feet due to Hermione's Disarming Spell, staring at her attacker.  

"I-I didn't mean it! I didn't think he would actually eat them!" 

"Oh, so powerful love potions are the new pranking fad? Any reason why you targeted the most famous boy in school?" 

"I-I-I th-thought..."  

"You are aware that he's my boyfriend, right? It's hardly a secret. We've been going out for years."  

"Well, y-yes, b-but I..." 

"A love potion is awfully convenient, isn't it? Did you think you could have him all to yourself for a few hours and there'd be no consequences?"  

Romilda shook herself and attempted to look haughty. Her quaking legs didn't help, but her voice remained steady as she tossed her hair. "Well, considering you're this angry, obviously the potion worked, so clearly he doesn't love you as much as you think---" 

A shot of fire burst next to her ear. She shrieked and began sobbing. Hermione's eyes were sparking, the tip of her wand buzzing with barely restrained raw magic. She marched closer to the culprit, slammed a hand against the wall and glared down at Romilda---for the trembling girl was visibly shrinking into herself with terror.  

"Love potions do not make a person fall in love with someone else!" she snarled, the blood pounding in her head. "They make the person infatuated, unhealthily obsessed, and it's all temporary! Harry couldn't help reacting the way he did! Even Professor Dumbledore would have succumbed to a love potion! It's dangerously powerful magic, and it seems to me that you're in the wrong here for meddling with something that shouldn't ever be tested outside of a classroom!" Hermione pointed her wand at Romilda's throat. "If you come anywhere near my boyfriend again, you'll pay for it. Do I make myself clear?"  

The sobbing girl nodded fervently. Disgusted, Hermione stepped back, watching in a surging of triumph, as her victim fled the scene.  

Meanwhile, in the shadows, Professor McGonagall and Professor Slughorn held a whispered debate.  

"Miss Granger did not harm the girl, Minerva--" 

"She still threatened a fellow student! A Prefect should know better!"  

"Yes, well, Harry was the actual victim here, and as Prefect, Miss Granger had the power of discipling--" 

"Horace, you're only defending her because Potter is your favorite pupil," McGonagall said, her eyes narrowed. She sighed. "I'll have a word with Miss Granger, but I must confess Miss Vane was more in the wrong here. She'll need to be punished more thoroughly. Don't look so smug, Horace! I'm merely doing my duty!" 

 

* * *

 

"Wow. Hermione got told off by McGonagall? She must be in shock."  

"Not as much as you would think," Harry said, moving a pawn on the chessboard. "Slughorn was in her defense, and Romilda confessed all. I think Hermione is more taking the 'punishment' as a badge of honor."  

Ron grinned. "Not gonna lie, though, the idea of facing Hermione's wrath would be enough to have me confess all my sins. I'm surprised Romilda didn't kowtow and kiss her feet." His king took out Harry's pawn, but Harry barely noticed. He was watching his girlfriend pretend to read on the armchair by the fire. Her eyes were red and puffy. He winced and glanced back at Ron.  

"Was I, er, was I that bad?" 

Ron roared with laughter. A few heads turned, but mostly the other Gryffindors continued with their own activities. "Mate, you have no idea!"  

Harry sighed and stood up. "You can checkmate me, now. I gotta, er, have a little talk."  

"Have fun," Ron chortled.  

Harry walked over to his girlfriend and knelt down beside her. "Hey." 

"Hey." Her voice was slightly squeaky. She continued staring at the pages in her book, but her eyes weren't moving.  

"I'm sorry, babe."  

"Don't be. It's all that – that  _bitch's_  fault." Her eyes seemed to catch on fire for a moment, and not for the first time in his life, Harry was eternally grateful he never got on Hermione's bad side. He squeezed her hand.  

"Is it true what Ron told me earlier?" Hermione looked up at last, her eyebrows raised. Harry went on. "Is it true I hinted that I would have dated you if I wasn't, er--" 

"Yes, yes, you mentioned that," Hermione said impatiently. When Harry grinned happily, she snapped, "What?" 

"Well, that proves then that her love potion wasn't THAT effective, right? I still thought about you!"  

Hermione stared at her boyfriend. Her face flushed. She averted her eyes, while he kissed her cheek. "I-I suppose you have a point..."  

"Am I forgiven, then?" 

"Harry, of course, there's nothing to forgive you for! It's ... it's  _her_  I refuse to forgive!"  

"Fair enough." He kissed her, noticing through his barely closed eyelids that Romilda Vane was watching the two of them sulkily on the girls' dorm stairwell. Inspired, Harry ran his hand through Hermione's bushy hair and began snogging her good and hard. He heard an indignant gasp and stomping up the stairs. He grinned against Hermione's lips and lost himself once again under her spell.  


End file.
